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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22832923">Sunrise Protocol</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain'>TellMeNoAgain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Avengers UnPacked [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Omega Verse, Scenting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 13:42:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22832923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, okay, as long as we're having fun, let's keep the A/B/O playtime going!</p><p>~~~</p><p>Tony considers his options, then, because if he can’t have sex to distract him from his knees and pump him full of endorphins to start his day, he’s going to need alternative chemicals.  Coffee, obviously, and painkillers, probably. Well, he’s in no shape to pop out of bed and go chase them down and technically the octogenarian is physically twenty-something, with knees that don’t creak, and has declared multiple times with witnesses that he’d do anything for Tony, anything.  Pepper owes him one for handling last night without her so she could finish up the data review for the Bramsley account that should have gotten done last week when she played hooky to help Natasha through her rut, which, Natasha had plenty of volunteers, including her own bonded beta, so that was completely unnecessary.  And then there’s everything Harley owes him right now.  So Tony’s in bed with three people, any one of which he can send for coffee and painkillers.  </p><p>Excellent.</p><p>Time to wake them up and inform them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Darcy Lewis/Jane Foster/Thor, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, Tony Stark/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Avengers UnPacked [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sunrise Protocol</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, this is what happens when I read a recommended story that turns into reading TEN A/B/O fics, find out that there are no RULES for this shit, and decide, "Well, fuck it, if everyone's having fun in this sandbox, I'm going to, too."</p><p>You don't have to like it, I promise. But I had a whole lot of fun writing it.</p><p>Beta'd by my brave jf4m and mindwiped, who are easily the most courageous people on the planet, because I threw this at them and said JESUS CHRIST I DON'T EVEN KNOW. I'M SORRY, and then they corrected my spelling and caught my errors like the pros they are, anyway.</p><p>I've put links to the fics I read to learn about A/B/O in the end notes of the first story.</p><p>Every remaining mistake and all the broken things about the rules of this AU belongs to me. Me and 3 AM, baby.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony wakes up with the immediate knowledge that he spent a lot of time on his knees on the unpadded floor of the limo last night.  He fucking aches, and feels every one of his mumble-something years. In his knees. Where it hurts. His ridiculously-spry-for-a-octogenarian-guy mate is spooned along his back and Pepper’s clean beta-scented hair is tickling his nose.  He nuzzles forward a little, because sex is an excellent distraction from pain and aging. He stops abruptly as his nose catches up to the rest of him and reminds him they’re not alone, there’s pup-scent present.  </p><p>Tony knows he’s checked on Harley several times during his second heat, that’s what you <em>do</em>, especially when the pup had clearly not had an ideal first heat, and he’s done it automatically, like he checks on Peter.  But pup-scent doesn’t do it for him. He would totally help a pup out, heat should always be assisted, he’s done years of solo heats and he’s not letting that ever happen to any omega under his care, that shit is <em>fucked</em> <em>up</em>.  So he knows Harley <em>can</em> have sex, he’s seen the kid in the middle of a fuckton of sex, but pupscent doesn’t do it for Tony, and he’s not starting up some sex with the pup right here.  It’s probably unfair, but whatever. Given how no one in the not-Pack shows any interest in the pups outside of heat, yeah, he’s not alone in that feeling.  </p><p>Sam would know why, there’s probably some biological reason for omegas to have their first litter, in the days before prophylactics, while their scent still bonded them to their childhood pack.  That first pregnancy is supposed to settle the scent, drop the pup overtones, declare adulthood, but few omegas handle it that way anymore. Most just wait the few years it takes for it to fade naturally and pick their partners from among the many alphas and betas who opt for the implant the day after <em> their </em> scent shows up.  Say something for knotheads, they collectively made it possible for omega lib in the space of a decade or so, from the first developed implant to the full fucking Charter, by individually scrambling to be a <em> safe </em> choice for the omegas and betas they panted after.</p><p>Tony considers his options, then, because if he can’t have sex to distract him from his knees and pump him full of endorphins to start his day, he’s going to need alternative chemicals.  Coffee, obviously, and painkillers, probably. Well, he’s in no shape to pop out of bed and go chase them down and technically the octogenarian is physically twenty-something, with knees that don’t creak, and has declared multiple times with witnesses that he’d do anything for Tony, anything.  Pepper owes him one for handling last night without her so she could finish up the data review for the Bramsley account that <em> should </em> have gotten done last week when she played hooky to help Natasha through her rut, which, Natasha had plenty of volunteers, including her own bonded beta, so <em> that </em> was completely unnecessary.  And then there’s everything Harley owes him right now.  So Tony’s in bed with three people, any one of which he can send for coffee and painkillers.  </p><p>Excellent.</p><p>Time to wake them up and inform them.</p><p>Tony says, “FRIDAY, sunrise protocol,” and the room bursts into birdsong, one whole wall slowly lighting up.  Pepper and Steve both groan, in unison, faces digging into their pillows. Harley gasps and then groans, too, burrowing into Steve’s back.</p><p>“What the fuck?” the pup moans, his thick hick accent adding unnecessary and adorably sleep-roughened syllables to each word.  “What the actual fuck?”</p><p>Tony stretches, carefully.  His body has fifteen years on any of the bodies in this bed- give or take, it’s never actually come up with Pepper, he’s not her doctor and birthdates are a doctor thing.  But she’s the closest and he’s still pretty sure he’s got around fifteen on her. He says, smiling maniacally, “Welcome to Thursday, loves. Someone go get me coffee and the little orange pills I require.”</p><p>Steve’s hand heavily slaps his chest as Pepper mutters, “FRIDAY, we talked about this,” in a betrayed tone of voice.  Tony smiles. He loves it when they’re predictable.</p><p>“Yes, Ms. Potts,” responds the AI.  “And the last time I failed to respond Mx. Stark made a credible threat regarding our subscription services.  I regret to wake you in this fashion, but I am not giving up my ethical access to HBO.”</p><p>“Ah,” breathes Pepper.  Check. Mate. Match.</p><p>“Coffee.  Little orange pills,” Tony reminds them smugly, when none of them seem inclined to haul ass and do as he desires.</p><p>Harley sighs, and rustles around on the edge of the bed, <em> good </em> little ommy.  “Well, I can get the coffee, but I don’t have any idea what he’s talking about with th’pills.”</p><p>“I’ll get them,” sighs Pepper.  Damn straight she will, she <em> owes </em> Tony one.</p><p>“Turn. It. Off,” growls Steve, slapping Tony’s chest again as the other two shift off the bed.</p><p>“Wakes wakey,” chants Tony, because he knows Steve’s next move, and it’s not nearly the deterrent Steve wishes it was.</p><p>“Omega, I swear to God,” growls Steve, pulling Tony down, grabbing him tight, wrapping his thickly muscled limbs around Tony’s aching body.  Exactly as anticipated, <em> yum</em>.  “I will <em> eat </em> you.”</p><p>“Mm,” hums Tony smugly.  “Promise?”</p><p>“Omega,” growls Steve and okay, the birdsong is getting a little annoying, sure, but there’s no need to throw around alphavoice this early in the day, Tony doesn’t have his filters in yet.  <em> Grumpy </em> morning Alpha.</p><p>“Yes, Alpha?” Tony asks innocently, feeling a small thrill go down his spine because this is Steve, <em> his </em> Alpha, <em> his </em>mate.  Tony sleeps with filters off for this man and no other, because he trusts Steve.  It makes him feel giddy, still, even after the long years of their partnership, after the long jaded decades of his life, that Steve’s voice, gruff with sleep, can make him feel so sweetly eager to please again.</p><p>“I will command you,” warns Steve, nuzzling into his neck.  “I will, don’t think I won’t, Tony.”</p><p>Tony thrills, lets himself thrill to that thought, here, in Steve’s arms, where he can just be an omega, where all Steve needs to be is his alpha.  He gives himself until Steve shifts his weight to enjoy the playful teasing thought of pushing Steve to <em>command</em> him to turn the alarm off.   When Steve shifts, though, he tells FRIDAY promptly, “Morning glow.”  The birdsong cuts out and is replaced with soft, gentle jazz. Steve kisses the nape of his neck and murmurs, “Good ommy.”  Tony does not wiggle, but he does, uh, <em>stretch</em> <em>quickly</em>, as he allows himself to be affected by the praise.  He loves the way Steve nips at the back of his neck and chuckles in clear approval at his reaction.</p><p>The two of them have <em> earned </em> this easy dance of dominance and status, after years of hard words and missteps and sullen tears and harsh raging.  They’ve worked for this, struggled for this, and Tony’s mature enough to admit it wasn’t Steve’s old-fashioned expectations that were usually the cause of the worst blow-ups.  Talk about bad parenting, poor socializing- Tony’s well aware Howard crippled him for life, had been viciously aware of it for every day of his adulthood, every angry headline declaring him a menace to society, every broken attempt to bond like a normal fucking person. Every heartbeat, every heartbreak, every single one making him more and more unfit, until Steve had dipped his head for that first kiss.  He’d kissed Tony, and then told him in that painfully young, painfully earnest voice, “Omega, you’re already worth every extra ounce of effort I have put in. Let me, Tony, <em> let me choose.  </em> I want this, I <em> want you.  </em> Let me choose you <em> .” </em></p><p>How could he deny the man his chance to fail with Tony, after that?  </p><p>But Steve is more stubborn than stone, more immobile than a mountain, determined to learn the twisted code Howard built Tony with, dedicated to patching and debugging where Tony can let him.  And these days, Tony feels mostly right, mostly whole, able to just <em> be</em>.  He feels understood.  Appreciated. Treasured.  </p><p>After a lifetime of fighting against himself, fighting against every alpha with their own stubborn ideas of the shape Tony should fill in their life, finding the calm clear assumption that the shape of Tony will fit just as it is was a shock.  And Steve hadn’t failed, not even at their worst, his eyes and words hot with the sharpest side of his alpha anger, Tony’s own eyes daring him to do his worst. He’d always done his <em> best</em>, for Tony.  And his best was damn impressive.</p><p>Tony pushes back, knees protesting the tension, just a little, just so that Steve pulls him tighter and growls, “Mine, my ommy.  My good ‘mega.” Like he does almost every morning, regardless of how bad they’d fought the night before. It makes Tony feel a little dizzy with lightheartedness.</p><p>With Steve, and a length of rope, and a good horse, Tony could conquer the world, he’s sure of it.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Steve has no idea how he hasn’t throttled his sass-assed mate.  Darcy taught him the term and usually Steve avoids swearing but this word?  This word fits like no other, for Anthony Edward Stark. It’s one of the eternal mysteries of this new modern world, how he can love the omega so much and also cheerfully picture how satisfying it would be to have that throat between his teeth.  He’s such a brazen menace.</p><p>Tony wiggles back into him and Steve nips at his neck, because, okay, annoying sass-assed menace, and <em> cute</em>.  He’s aware he’s probably the only person in the world who describes Tony as <em> cute </em> on a regular basis.  At one point there were laws being drafted to prevent Tony from being so Tony, Steve’s been told, and that was before the whole Iron Man reveal.  Tony is a <em> menace</em>.</p><p>Steve not-so-secretly loves it.</p><p>Harley plods back in and holds a gigantic “Who’s Your ‘Mega Man” mug out towards Tony with a disgruntled look on his face.  He’s wearing one of Natasha’s sleep shirts and a pair of cut off sweatpants and his hair is standing straight up on the left side of his head.  Steve smiles up at him, because it’s pretty hard not to enjoy that much adorable, even first thing in the morning.</p><p>Tony chuckles and sits up, stiffly, taking the mug with all the regal air of a man who’s been an omega for his entire life and is well aware of what the world owes him in return.  Steve loves that, too, although he’s learned that watching Peter imitate it is even better.</p><p>“You want any, Alpha?” asks Harley, rolling his eyes as Tony hums into his first sips with delight.</p><p>“Sure, if you’re offering,” says Steve easily, because the kid is such a good pup, such good breeding.</p><p>“I am,” says Harley decisively, and he lopes off to go collect another mug. Steve watches him go, pretty happy with the results of that attitude adjustment last night.</p><p>Tony sips his coffee, making happy little hissing noises as he no doubt burns his tongue, but Steve can see the pain lines around his mouth, his eyes, well-hidden as they already are.  Tony’s face has become an open book for Steve to read at his leisure, after years of learning it hieroglyph by hieroglyph.  </p><p>“Kneeling last night?” he asks Tony quietly, reviewing the likely causes.  Tony grimaces before nodding shortly, eyes flying to the door, to the window, to anywhere but Steve’s face.  </p><p>“Sorry,” Steve tells him honestly, because he’d been juggling a lot last night, and done his best, but now there’s consequences for Tony he didn’t intend. </p><p>“Nah, I needed it, needed exactly that,” Tony tells him.  “Neatly avoided some shock-sick, thanks.”</p><p>“Yeah, that was the main concern,” Steve admits.  He sighs, and sits up as Pepper enters the suite, somehow looking put together already, in her designer pajamas.  She frowns down at Tony and says, “I got two. If it doesn’t knock out whatever it is, you can have another one.”</p><p>“Knees,” say Tony and Steve together.</p><p>“I had him held for about a half-hour, on the limo floor, rumble-brained,” admits Steve.  Pepper blows out an annoyed breath and Tony adds, defensively, “He was trying to avoid shock-sick, Pep, give him a little wiggle room.”</p><p>“Shock sick?” she asks, eyes darting between the two of them.  “Over Harley being a naughty pup?”</p><p>“Oh, uh, Avenger business,” Steve tells her, because she <em> asked </em> that they not give her details of their current missions just last week.  She raises an eyebrow and looks to Tony.  </p><p>Tony shrugs and says, “Look, either you want in or you don’t want anything to do with it, you can’t get mad at me for playing superhero and say you don’t want to talk about it and then <em> want to talk about it </em> the next morning, Pep.”</p><p>“I think you’ll find I can do whatever I want,” she says pertly.  Steve concedes this point, because he’s found that to be very true about Pepper and how Pepper moves through the world, no doubt a side effect of too much time spent with Tony I-Raised-The-Birthrate Stark. “Me and my controlling shares of your business.”</p><p>Tony smiles at Steve over the rim of his cup as Harley walks in.  He’s so <em> cute </em> when he’s mischievous, Steve muses.  Tony teases her, “I didn’t like that company, anyway.  Go ahead. I’ll just make another one, we’ll be market competitors in three years.”</p><p>“Pssh,” she scoffs.  “If I was at the helm, it would be six months.”</p><p>“Oh, definitely,” he tells her, and lifts his face for her kiss when she accepts the compliment.</p><p>“Okay, fine, I’ll put a temporary hold on my anger about your continued death wish hobby,” she huffs.  “Tell me how you almost got shock-sick last night.”</p><p>“You almost got shock-sick?” asks Harley, throwing himself down at the bottom of the bed.  “Is that what that was? I was kinda out of it at that point,” he tells Pepper.</p><p>“So I heard,” she murmurs at him, and then swats at him with a casual hand, folding herself neatly onto the remaining space at the foot of the bed.  “Naughty pup. Mind your manners.”</p><p>Harley ducks his head, but he’s smiling just a little, which Steve takes as a great sign that the pup’s absorbed the second part of last night’s lesson, too.  “Yes, beta, ma’am,” he tells her earnestly. “Sam said he needed me this morning yet, for my first lesson, promise.”</p><p>“Mm,” she says, eyeing him with clear approval before turning to Tony and raising her eyebrow again.</p><p>Tony blows across his coffee and then says, in a ridiculously nonchalant voice, “Well, so, the assassin who took out my folks is still alive and kicking, Natasha knows him from her Red Room days, and Harley was helping Peter to chase him around New Jersey.”</p><p>There’s silence and then Pepper swears, “<em>Jesus</em>, Tony.”  She shakes her head at him in disbelief.  “I take it back, you can keep your Avengers mission briefs to yourself.”</p><p>Steve shakes his head and tells his omega, feeling incredulous, “Sure glad betas don’t get shock-sick, you complete drip.”</p><p>Harley shakes his head.  “Yeah, that was- I’m not judging, Omega, you know best, but way to rip off the bandaid slowly.”  How one pup voice is capable of that much sarcasm is beyond Steve, but then again, the kid spends a lot of time in the lab with Tony.</p><p>“It’s accurate and informative and it brings her up to speed,” chuckles Tony, leaning in to Steve just a little.</p><p>“There’s an assassin in New Jersey?” she says, her voice rising.  “Tony, I have meetings in New Jersey next month.” Her eyes are still a little wide as she looks at Steve.  “Steve, is he serious? The one that killed his parents? Natasha <em> knows </em> him?”</p><p>“Cancel your meetings until I get a lid on this,” Tony suggests, at the same time as Steve says, “It sounds like it, yes.”</p><p>Harley interjects, “Natasha thinks she saw him once, she doesn’t <em> know </em> him.  He gets put in hibernation, she called it put on ice, in between his missions, because he’s not a voluntary assassin, they did something to him.  His last one was two weeks ago, some place in Virginia, we think, so he’ll be back on ice, by now.”</p><p>“Oh my God, Steve, ice?” asks Pepper, her voice soft with concern.  Steve loves that about her, loves that she remembers such small details about the people around her.  He smiles back at her and says, “I’m plenty warm, Pepper. It sounds like this guy could use some warming up, too.”</p><p>She nods uncertainly and then asks Tony, “So that’s a shock, then.”</p><p>“It was,” he agrees, sipping his coffee and watching her out of dark eyes.  They share a look that Steve has learned the code for. She’s asking if he’s okay, and Tony’s eyes are saying of course, but she never believes that, so she’s asking really, really, and then Tony’s eyes are soft and gentle and vulnerable, and he’s letting her see really, really, he’s okay.  It’s kind of a relief for Steve, to see it, to see that Tony’s really really okay, even if he already knows it because he was there, making sure of it.</p><p>Harley clears his throat and says, “So, breakfast, right?  And then you’ll plan out how to trap him.”</p><p>“Oh, you’ll be helping, since you like helping,” says Tony mildly, taking another gulp of his coffee and stretching his legs a little, obviously testing them for pain, for stiffness.  Steve stares at his face carefully, looking for the telltale signs of hidden flinch, but none come. Not too bad, then.</p><p>Meanwhile, Harley has begun to stare at Tony in shock.  Finally, he squeaks, “Really? Really, you’ll let me, really?”</p><p>“Well, it’s one way to make sure it’s supervised trouble,” sighs Pepper. </p><p>“Avengers support team, right, pup?” asks Tony cheerfully, draining the mug he’s holding and shifting, sliding off the bed and suddenly his usual whirl of motion and energy.  Steve sighs. He loves his Omega, but sometimes he wishes the man came with a dial so he could turn him down a little, let him <em> rest</em>.</p><p>“Yes!  Yup!” yelps Harley, flying up, and maybe it’s not just <em> his </em> omega, maybe it’s all of them, muses Steve.</p><p>Pepper snorts and addresses the room at large, “They never list hyperactivity as a feature of male omegas.  They never list it, and you’d think it would be the number one warning label they’d want to slap on them.”</p><p>“What, over the cute factor?” asks Steve.  </p><p>Pepper tilts her head, considering.  “Well, no. The cute factor gets them out of so much shit.  But right below it, in red ink.”</p><p>Steve chuckles.  “You want to talk red ink, we can talk for days, Pepper Potts.  I have so many opinions.”</p><p>She smiles back at him as they trail after Tony and Harley into the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Peter is already up and making pancakes, which is just, he’s such a suck up, sometimes.  He’s barefoot, because he’s a hussy, he’s a complete hussy, but there’s something really sweet about him that means only Harley ever calls him out on his shit.  Harley’s not interested in doing that this morning, though, he still feels twitchy and on-edge from last night, like he’s doing something wrong all the time, like he should still be apologizing, even though Alpha and Omega have made it really clear he’s not in trouble any more.</p><p>Clint is sipping his coffee, perched on the counter beside the bowl, heels drumming the cupboards below him.  “Hey, Harley,” he says, and then he sniffs the air. “Finally,” he grunts, “just pineapple.”</p><p>Harley rolls his eyes.  “I don’t control it,” he informs Clint, as Tony gives Peter a playful hug from behind, scenting him and causing the omega to giggle, actually giggle like a cartoon omega in a frilly costume.  Harley’s going to sprain his eyes and it’s not even breakfast, that’s how hard it is to have Peter as a packsib. It’s that hard. He’s going to be blind by 30.</p><p>“Yeah, you do,” argues Clint.  “Stay out of trouble, stay safe, be smart, and you’d always smell just like this, which, I can’t stress enough, would be my preference.  Strong preference.”</p><p>“We had to Fairbanks to get out of there last night,” grumbles Bruce from the table.  “You owe me.”</p><p>Natasha chuckles and murmurs, “Well, I owe <em> you </em> one, Harley. Fairbanks always works out in my favor.”</p><p>“Ew,” Harley informs them.  “Ew, <em> gross</em>.”</p><p>Peter nods, squirming out of Tony’s grasp and pushing the omega away from his griddle with a small, adorable glare.  “Definitely ew. TMI, Nat.”</p><p>“A healthy sex life-” begins Bruce, before Harley, Peter and Clint begin making vomit noises.</p><p>Clint complains, “Left me alone with the pup for like three hours.  What kind of alpha even <em> are </em>you, Nat?”</p><p>Natasha smiles and says sweetly, “The fully satisfied kind,” which makes Bruce blush and the vomit noises turn violently aggressive.</p><p>“Not at breakfast,” says Pepper, walking into the kitchen briskly.  “Not at any meal, please, gentlemen.”</p><p>Steve detours from his usual morning quest for fresh fruit to rub Peter’s cheeks with his own, scenting him up for the day.  Peter holds still, rubbing back a little and smiling at the griddle, which is just so domestic Harley can feel his stomach flip with what has to be disgust, because he’s never going to admit it might be anything else.  Steve slips past Clint and comes to stand by Harley again, and then takes a deep breath. “Yeah, you’ll do, Harley. There’s enough of me and Tony on there, if you want to go catch some Natasha, sure, but you’re good for today.”</p><p>Natasha makes grabby hand motions at Harley and he laughs, walking over to her and bending down so she can rub her scent on the pads at his neck and wrist.  “There,” she coos at him, releasing him. “Now you’re all scented up and protected from the big bad alphas of the world.”</p><p>Harley snorts, “Because I live with the biggest and baddest of them all.”</p><p>“Damn straight,” she growls back at him happily.</p><p>“Toast and pineapple,” complains Clint. “It’s not bad, it’s just… it shouldn’t smell that good, should it?”</p><p>“I like it,” declares Peter, flipping a pancake onto a precarious stack and working on the next one.  “It’s all the best parts of breakfast!”</p><p>Harley and Clint share looks of disbelief because they are the only two people in the world who recognize that Peter was clearly grown in a lab.  Harley’s glad he’s not alone, in fact. Someday, Peter is going to turn into a supervillain, and then he and Clint will be able to share <em> called it </em> glances together.</p><p>“Done,” announces Peter, with a cheerful smile, walking the precariously-stacked platter to the table and placing it at the center.  </p><p>“These look amazing, thank you, Peter,” says Bruce kindly.  Harley and Clint make eye contact. Harley knows Clint’s thinking, <em> that’s where he learned it</em>, and it makes him smirk as he slides into an empty chair.</p><p>Sam slides into the chair next to him and says, “After breakfast, self-defense 101, Harley.  Don’t forget.”</p><p>“Can anyone sit in?” asks Peter guilelessly.  “Because I keep messing up, too.” His wide, earnest eyes make Harley wince and take his first bite a little viciously.  Seriously, the kid is too omega, like textbook omega, making breakfast, walking around barefoot, big hazel eyes always telegraphing a willingness to help, to assist, to make it all better.  He’s just begging for an alpha to put him in a den and keep him there, thinks Harley.</p><p>Sam smiles at Peter and says, “Well, you can sit in if you want.  I think any teaching I do at this point will be things you’ve already mastered, but it can’t hurt to have another person around who might be able to explain things better from, uh, your side of the biological divide.”</p><p>Peter nods solemnly, like he’s a video game toon accepting a quest, and Harley takes another bite of pancake before he does go ahead and sprain his eyeballs.</p><p>“And then, we talk about traps,” announces Tony.  “Traps for assassins in Central Park.”</p><p>“Wait,” says Pepper, putting her fork down and turning to glare at Tony.  “I thought you said New Jersey, Tony.”</p><p>“He’s in New Jersey,” Peter rushes to explain, gesturing wildly with his fork.  “That’s definitely his base. Hibernation center. Thing.”</p><p>“Well, we can trap him anywhere.  I just thought Central Park would be fun. We never get over there,” shrugs Tony.</p><p>“After breakfast,” says Alpha firmly.  “First, we eat."</p><p>Heads around the table nod, and Harley’s not surprised to find his is one of them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Honestly, I'm just having so much fucking fun.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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